no: No Help or Compassion Shown! The war was over for all practical purposes, all left was senseless killing, looting, and running and hiding! The scene is somewhere in rural Georgia.

Robert J Samples Loc: Round Rock, Texas

No Help or Compassion Shown!

The war was over for all practical purposes, all left was senseless killing, looting, and running and hiding! The scene is somewhere in rural Georgia. At the edge of a large cotton field and back against the woods stand a modestly impressive home that many would call a mansion. General Sherman had given his troops the order to scatter out, burn, destroy the crops or anything the Confederates might use to keep on fighting.

Most of the Confederate units had become disorganized and were some were running for their lives, knowing the end was near and there was no reason to be another useless and unnecessary death. Many, by twos and threes were running and trying to stay ahead of the Union blue wave sweeping through the state toward the Gulf of Mexico.

Fred Miller was a sergeant by permanent rank and was moving alone cautiously through the edge of the woods. He had been a part of a Louisiana company but attrition from battle, sickness, and death had left him on his lonesome self. As he skirted along the woods, it was early morning, and he was being extremely cautious because there were Union Patrols everywhere and their presence could not be predicted. He was determined to stay alive and make it back home if at all possible.

As the morning mist rolled away, he thought he heard a cry for help! Pausing beside a tall pine tree, using it as a hiding place, he waited and listened. In a minute or two, the call for help came again. It was from the now partially destroyed mansion. He kept looking around for any sign of a trap, or other Yankees in the vicinity of this house which at one time had been a reasonably nice mansion. Seeing nothing that alarmed him, he moved toward it.

This home had received some damage from earlier shell fire and the second floor and above had been almost completely destroyed. He entered from the back which was a kitchen. Next, after a cluttered hallway, he found some stairs. Waiting and listening, he cautiously begins to climb, stepping over random debris, clutter to the second floor. There, prone on the floor of the floor was a wounded Yankee soldier. He was pinned down by his Springfield rife and the bayonet stuck into his chest. The rifle has help at about a 60 degree angle by fallen timber from the rafters of the building.

Fred could see immediately what the soldier’s situation was and spoke to the Yankee, and said, “Looks like you got your self in a Helluva fix! What were you doing in here?” I was just looking around, It had been raining last night and I took shelter. Was the reply! Beside the Yankee was a burlap bag, which Fred kicked and out k some pieces of jewelery, silverware, and other trinkets. Well, it looks like to me you were just a burglar, stealing things from this home!” How did you get yourself in this fix with your rifle?”

I don’t rightly know! Was the answer, I was walking along here and suddenly the roof caved in, trapping me. Well, Mr. Yankee, I would take mercy on you if you had just taken shelter from the rain last night, but since you were stealing from this family, I don’t feel obligated to do that. However, it looks like you are able to reach the trigger on you rifle, I will do you the favor of cocking it and that way when you are ready, you can pull the trigger and end your misery! You have any prayers or last words before I go? “No, I reckon not.”

Fred stands up, reached over and cocks the Springfield and leaves the mansion, carefully going down the stairs and out the same way he had entered. He had walked about a couple hundred yards when he heard the loud report of a rifle, being fired inside the house! Just Sayin…RJS

bknecht Loc: Northeast pa

Robert J Samples wrote:

No Help or Compassion Shown!

The war was over for all practical purposes, all left was senseless killing, looting, and running and hiding! The scene is somewhere in rural Georgia. At the edge of a large cotton field and back against the woods stand a modestly impressive home that many would call a mansion. General Sherman had given his troops the order to scatter out, burn, destroy the crops or anything the Confederates might use to keep on fighting.

Most of the Confederate units had become disorganized and were some were running for their lives, knowing the end was near and there was no reason to be another useless and unnecessary death. Many, by twos and threes were running and trying to stay ahead of the Union blue wave sweeping through the state toward the Gulf of Mexico.

Fred Miller was a sergeant by permanent rank and was moving alone cautiously through the edge of the woods. He had been a part of a Louisiana company but attrition from battle, sickness, and death had left him on his lonesome self. As he skirted along the woods, it was early morning, and he was being extremely cautious because there were Union Patrols everywhere and their presence could not be predicted. He was determined to stay alive and make it back home if at all possible.

As the morning mist rolled away, he thought he heard a cry for help! Pausing beside a tall pine tree, using it as a hiding place, he waited and listened. In a minute or two, the call for help came again. It was from the now partially destroyed mansion. He kept looking around for any sign of a trap, or other Yankees in the vicinity of this house which at one time had been a reasonably nice mansion. Seeing nothing that alarmed him, he moved toward it.

This home had received some damage from earlier shell fire and the second floor and above had been almost completely destroyed. He entered from the back which was a kitchen. Next, after a cluttered hallway, he found some stairs. Waiting and listening, he cautiously begins to climb, stepping over random debris, clutter to the second floor. There, prone on the floor of the floor was a wounded Yankee soldier. He was pinned down by his Springfield rife and the bayonet stuck into his chest. The rifle has help at about a 60 degree angle by fallen timber from the rafters of the building.

Fred could see immediately what the soldier’s situation was and spoke to the Yankee, and said, “Looks like you got your self in a Helluva fix! What were you doing in here?” I was just looking around, It had been raining last night and I took shelter. Was the reply! Beside the Yankee was a burlap bag, which Fred kicked and out k some pieces of jewelery, silverware, and other trinkets. Well, it looks like to me you were just a burglar, stealing things from this home!” How did you get yourself in this fix with your rifle?”

I don’t rightly know! Was the answer, I was walking along here and suddenly the roof caved in, trapping me. Well, Mr. Yankee, I would take mercy on you if you had just taken shelter from the rain last night, but since you were stealing from this family, I don’t feel obligated to do that. However, it looks like you are able to reach the trigger on you rifle, I will do you the favor of cocking it and that way when you are ready, you can pull the trigger and end your misery! You have any prayers or last words before I go? “No, I reckon not.”

Fred stands up, reached over and cocks the Springfield and leaves the mansion, carefully going down the stairs and out the same way he had entered. He had walked about a couple hundred yards when he heard the loud report of a rifle, being fired inside the house! Just Sayin…RJS

No Help or Compassion Shown! br br The war was ov... (show quote)

Another captivating masterpiece RJS, thank you and keep them coming!

plumbob Loc: New Windsor Maryland

Robert J Samples wrote:

No Help or Compassion Shown!

The war was over for all practical purposes, all left was senseless killing, looting, and running and hiding! The scene is somewhere in rural Georgia. At the edge of a large cotton field and back against the woods stand a modestly impressive home that many would call a mansion. General Sherman had given his troops the order to scatter out, burn, destroy the crops or anything the Confederates might use to keep on fighting.

Most of the Confederate units had become disorganized and were some were running for their lives, knowing the end was near and there was no reason to be another useless and unnecessary death. Many, by twos and threes were running and trying to stay ahead of the Union blue wave sweeping through the state toward the Gulf of Mexico.

Fred Miller was a sergeant by permanent rank and was moving alone cautiously through the edge of the woods. He had been a part of a Louisiana company but attrition from battle, sickness, and death had left him on his lonesome self. As he skirted along the woods, it was early morning, and he was being extremely cautious because there were Union Patrols everywhere and their presence could not be predicted. He was determined to stay alive and make it back home if at all possible.

As the morning mist rolled away, he thought he heard a cry for help! Pausing beside a tall pine tree, using it as a hiding place, he waited and listened. In a minute or two, the call for help came again. It was from the now partially destroyed mansion. He kept looking around for any sign of a trap, or other Yankees in the vicinity of this house which at one time had been a reasonably nice mansion. Seeing nothing that alarmed him, he moved toward it.

This home had received some damage from earlier shell fire and the second floor and above had been almost completely destroyed. He entered from the back which was a kitchen. Next, after a cluttered hallway, he found some stairs. Waiting and listening, he cautiously begins to climb, stepping over random debris, clutter to the second floor. There, prone on the floor of the floor was a wounded Yankee soldier. He was pinned down by his Springfield rife and the bayonet stuck into his chest. The rifle has help at about a 60 degree angle by fallen timber from the rafters of the building.

Fred could see immediately what the soldier’s situation was and spoke to the Yankee, and said, “Looks like you got your self in a Helluva fix! What were you doing in here?” I was just looking around, It had been raining last night and I took shelter. Was the reply! Beside the Yankee was a burlap bag, which Fred kicked and out k some pieces of jewelery, silverware, and other trinkets. Well, it looks like to me you were just a burglar, stealing things from this home!” How did you get yourself in this fix with your rifle?”

I don’t rightly know! Was the answer, I was walking along here and suddenly the roof caved in, trapping me. Well, Mr. Yankee, I would take mercy on you if you had just taken shelter from the rain last night, but since you were stealing from this family, I don’t feel obligated to do that. However, it looks like you are able to reach the trigger on you rifle, I will do you the favor of cocking it and that way when you are ready, you can pull the trigger and end your misery! You have any prayers or last words before I go? “No, I reckon not.”

Fred stands up, reached over and cocks the Springfield and leaves the mansion, carefully going down the stairs and out the same way he had entered. He had walked about a couple hundred yards when he heard the loud report of a rifle, being fired inside the house! Just Sayin…RJS

No Help or Compassion Shown! br br The war was ov... (show quote)

I can imagine scenarios like that happen more than we know.

Big dog Loc: Bayshore, Long Island, New York

Robert J Samples wrote:

No Help or Compassion Shown!

The war was over for all practical purposes, all left was senseless killing, looting, and running and hiding! The scene is somewhere in rural Georgia. At the edge of a large cotton field and back against the woods stand a modestly impressive home that many would call a mansion. General Sherman had given his troops the order to scatter out, burn, destroy the crops or anything the Confederates might use to keep on fighting.

Most of the Confederate units had become disorganized and were some were running for their lives, knowing the end was near and there was no reason to be another useless and unnecessary death. Many, by twos and threes were running and trying to stay ahead of the Union blue wave sweeping through the state toward the Gulf of Mexico.

Fred Miller was a sergeant by permanent rank and was moving alone cautiously through the edge of the woods. He had been a part of a Louisiana company but attrition from battle, sickness, and death had left him on his lonesome self. As he skirted along the woods, it was early morning, and he was being extremely cautious because there were Union Patrols everywhere and their presence could not be predicted. He was determined to stay alive and make it back home if at all possible.

As the morning mist rolled away, he thought he heard a cry for help! Pausing beside a tall pine tree, using it as a hiding place, he waited and listened. In a minute or two, the call for help came again. It was from the now partially destroyed mansion. He kept looking around for any sign of a trap, or other Yankees in the vicinity of this house which at one time had been a reasonably nice mansion. Seeing nothing that alarmed him, he moved toward it.

This home had received some damage from earlier shell fire and the second floor and above had been almost completely destroyed. He entered from the back which was a kitchen. Next, after a cluttered hallway, he found some stairs. Waiting and listening, he cautiously begins to climb, stepping over random debris, clutter to the second floor. There, prone on the floor of the floor was a wounded Yankee soldier. He was pinned down by his Springfield rife and the bayonet stuck into his chest. The rifle has help at about a 60 degree angle by fallen timber from the rafters of the building.

Fred could see immediately what the soldier’s situation was and spoke to the Yankee, and said, “Looks like you got your self in a Helluva fix! What were you doing in here?” I was just looking around, It had been raining last night and I took shelter. Was the reply! Beside the Yankee was a burlap bag, which Fred kicked and out k some pieces of jewelery, silverware, and other trinkets. Well, it looks like to me you were just a burglar, stealing things from this home!” How did you get yourself in this fix with your rifle?”

I don’t rightly know! Was the answer, I was walking along here and suddenly the roof caved in, trapping me. Well, Mr. Yankee, I would take mercy on you if you had just taken shelter from the rain last night, but since you were stealing from this family, I don’t feel obligated to do that. However, it looks like you are able to reach the trigger on you rifle, I will do you the favor of cocking it and that way when you are ready, you can pull the trigger and end your misery! You have any prayers or last words before I go? “No, I reckon not.”

Fred stands up, reached over and cocks the Springfield and leaves the mansion, carefully going down the stairs and out the same way he had entered. He had walked about a couple hundred yards when he heard the loud report of a rifle, being fired inside the house! Just Sayin…RJS

No Help or Compassion Shown! br br The war was ov... (show quote)

Well told!

The Outcast Loc: NE Michigan

Robert J Samples wrote:

No Help or Compassion Shown!

The war was over for all practical purposes, all left was senseless killing, looting, and running and hiding! The scene is somewhere in rural Georgia. At the edge of a large cotton field and back against the woods stand a modestly impressive home that many would call a mansion. General Sherman had given his troops the order to scatter out, burn, destroy the crops or anything the Confederates might use to keep on fighting.

Most of the Confederate units had become disorganized and were some were running for their lives, knowing the end was near and there was no reason to be another useless and unnecessary death. Many, by twos and threes were running and trying to stay ahead of the Union blue wave sweeping through the state toward the Gulf of Mexico.

Fred Miller was a sergeant by permanent rank and was moving alone cautiously through the edge of the woods. He had been a part of a Louisiana company but attrition from battle, sickness, and death had left him on his lonesome self. As he skirted along the woods, it was early morning, and he was being extremely cautious because there were Union Patrols everywhere and their presence could not be predicted. He was determined to stay alive and make it back home if at all possible.

As the morning mist rolled away, he thought he heard a cry for help! Pausing beside a tall pine tree, using it as a hiding place, he waited and listened. In a minute or two, the call for help came again. It was from the now partially destroyed mansion. He kept looking around for any sign of a trap, or other Yankees in the vicinity of this house which at one time had been a reasonably nice mansion. Seeing nothing that alarmed him, he moved toward it.

This home had received some damage from earlier shell fire and the second floor and above had been almost completely destroyed. He entered from the back which was a kitchen. Next, after a cluttered hallway, he found some stairs. Waiting and listening, he cautiously begins to climb, stepping over random debris, clutter to the second floor. There, prone on the floor of the floor was a wounded Yankee soldier. He was pinned down by his Springfield rife and the bayonet stuck into his chest. The rifle has help at about a 60 degree angle by fallen timber from the rafters of the building.

Fred could see immediately what the soldier’s situation was and spoke to the Yankee, and said, “Looks like you got your self in a Helluva fix! What were you doing in here?” I was just looking around, It had been raining last night and I took shelter. Was the reply! Beside the Yankee was a burlap bag, which Fred kicked and out k some pieces of jewelery, silverware, and other trinkets. Well, it looks like to me you were just a burglar, stealing things from this home!” How did you get yourself in this fix with your rifle?”

I don’t rightly know! Was the answer, I was walking along here and suddenly the roof caved in, trapping me. Well, Mr. Yankee, I would take mercy on you if you had just taken shelter from the rain last night, but since you were stealing from this family, I don’t feel obligated to do that. However, it looks like you are able to reach the trigger on you rifle, I will do you the favor of cocking it and that way when you are ready, you can pull the trigger and end your misery! You have any prayers or last words before I go? “No, I reckon not.”

Fred stands up, reached over and cocks the Springfield and leaves the mansion, carefully going down the stairs and out the same way he had entered. He had walked about a couple hundred yards when he heard the loud report of a rifle, being fired inside the house! Just Sayin…RJS

No Help or Compassion Shown! br br The war was ov... (show quote)

Sad, but he got what he deserved, I reckon!

Gordon Loc: Charleston South Carolina

Another great read Robert.

Able Man Loc: North Coast (Cleveland, Ohio)

Robert J Samples wrote:

No Help or Compassion Shown!

The war was over for all practical purposes, all left was senseless killing, looting, and running and hiding! The scene is somewhere in rural Georgia. At the edge of a large cotton field and back against the woods stand a modestly impressive home that many would call a mansion. General Sherman had given his troops the order to scatter out, burn, destroy the crops or anything the Confederates might use to keep on fighting.

Most of the Confederate units had become disorganized and were some were running for their lives, knowing the end was near and there was no reason to be another useless and unnecessary death. Many, by twos and threes were running and trying to stay ahead of the Union blue wave sweeping through the state toward the Gulf of Mexico.

Fred Miller was a sergeant by permanent rank and was moving alone cautiously through the edge of the woods. He had been a part of a Louisiana company but attrition from battle, sickness, and death had left him on his lonesome self. As he skirted along the woods, it was early morning, and he was being extremely cautious because there were Union Patrols everywhere and their presence could not be predicted. He was determined to stay alive and make it back home if at all possible.

As the morning mist rolled away, he thought he heard a cry for help! Pausing beside a tall pine tree, using it as a hiding place, he waited and listened. In a minute or two, the call for help came again. It was from the now partially destroyed mansion. He kept looking around for any sign of a trap, or other Yankees in the vicinity of this house which at one time had been a reasonably nice mansion. Seeing nothing that alarmed him, he moved toward it.

This home had received some damage from earlier shell fire and the second floor and above had been almost completely destroyed. He entered from the back which was a kitchen. Next, after a cluttered hallway, he found some stairs. Waiting and listening, he cautiously begins to climb, stepping over random debris, clutter to the second floor. There, prone on the floor of the floor was a wounded Yankee soldier. He was pinned down by his Springfield rife and the bayonet stuck into his chest. The rifle has help at about a 60 degree angle by fallen timber from the rafters of the building.

Fred could see immediately what the soldier’s situation was and spoke to the Yankee, and said, “Looks like you got your self in a Helluva fix! What were you doing in here?” I was just looking around, It had been raining last night and I took shelter. Was the reply! Beside the Yankee was a burlap bag, which Fred kicked and out k some pieces of jewelery, silverware, and other trinkets. Well, it looks like to me you were just a burglar, stealing things from this home!” How did you get yourself in this fix with your rifle?”

I don’t rightly know! Was the answer, I was walking along here and suddenly the roof caved in, trapping me. Well, Mr. Yankee, I would take mercy on you if you had just taken shelter from the rain last night, but since you were stealing from this family, I don’t feel obligated to do that. However, it looks like you are able to reach the trigger on you rifle, I will do you the favor of cocking it and that way when you are ready, you can pull the trigger and end your misery! You have any prayers or last words before I go? “No, I reckon not.”

Fred stands up, reached over and cocks the Springfield and leaves the mansion, carefully going down the stairs and out the same way he had entered. He had walked about a couple hundred yards when he heard the loud report of a rifle, being fired inside the house! Just Sayin…RJS

No Help or Compassion Shown! br br The war was ov... (show quote)

"Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them: for this is the law and the prophets." [Matthew 7:12]

Placerville Loc: Northern California

Robert have you written any books? You are a treasure trove of interesting experiences and knowledge of events. There are many of us that look forward to your experiences and history as you report it.

Americanman28

I hope this is an indication you are doing better!

TooMuch Loc: NE Alabama

Able Man wrote:

"Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them: for this is the law and the prophets." [Matthew 7:12]

Idk which version of the word you're quoting, the NKJ of Matt 7:12 say " Terefore, whatever you want men to do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets"

You either left out out your application of the verse, or you are applying it out of context. In context it is giving examples of NOT giving evil when good is requested, and to give according to the request.

Not trolling. I am hoping Able can include his reasoning how the verse applies to the situation. Peace to all. Tite lines

Gordon Loc: Charleston South Carolina

Placerville wrote:

Robert have you written any books? You are a treasure trove of interesting experiences and knowledge of events. There are many of us that look forward to your experiences and history as you report it.

He has two that I know of. And the one I have is well worth reading.

Able Man Loc: North Coast (Cleveland, Ohio)

TooMuch wrote:

Idk which version of the word you're quoting, the ... (show quote)

I stick pretty much with the KJV of 1611... That's the version quoted... As to "applying it out of context" goes... I always took it to mean, exactly what it says. In other words, ¿How would I want to be treated, if "the shoes WERE
on the other feet"?... I guess, if you or anyone else, can't "grasp" how that "Instruction" fits here; perhaps read all of chapter 7. I ain't going to type it all out here, with 1 finger, on a wee telephone. (I ain't got no computer.)
If I was pinned to the floor like that, under those circumstances; I'm thinking that I might probably greatly appreciate, what "Fred" did for me!
It means what it says.